


Hide me in your Eyes

by MaskedBlackQuill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Forced Bonding, Forced Orgasm, Gentle Kissing, Healing, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mutual Non-Con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Sexual Abuse, Situational Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:20:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27901378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskedBlackQuill/pseuds/MaskedBlackQuill
Summary: Neville Longbottom and Pansy Parkinson have a secret of their own, that they prefer to hide from everyone at the cost of their own wretched souls. (AU)
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Hide Me in Your Eyes  
**

**Prologue**

The spasms grew infrequent. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She no longer cared if it smudged her liner and made her look like a wraith. It was Halloween, now why should she care about how grotesque she was looking right now! She smelt horrible. She tried shifting her legs, but his long ones held her in place. Him. Her quiet watchful guardian angel.

“Let me go!” she whispered hoarsely.

He hugged her tightly and replied, “Not yet.”

She begged, embarrassed by the smell of urine hitting her nostrils, “Please, Longbottom.”

“No, Parkinson, now yet,” he gently argued.

She started crying this time.

Holding her snug against his board chest, Neville kissed her bare shoulders and murmured, “Shush, Love, the more you try to resist the worse it becomes. Let go, Pansy, let go.”

“It hurts. And…”

“And what? Don’t worry, I will vanish off everything. No one will know. Just…”

She couldn’t hold it any longer. Her body rocked violently. She felt strong silencing spells envelop the old classroom and threw up everything she had managed to eat at the Halloween Feast. She had to pretend in front of the rest of her sulking house mates, she stood with them as the vanquished reminders of the worst war Hogwarts had witnessed months ago.

Through glassy eyes, she watched him aim his wand at the front of her dress and vanish off the vomit and the wetness soaking into her dress from under. Still holding her close with his other arm, he conjured a glass of water and Pansy grabbed it with both of her hands. Her weak hands couldn’t carry the weight of it and she ended up dropping the whole thing over her.

Without a word, he conjured another one, but this time, he brought it close to her lips, coaxing her to sip on it instead.

She sipped a bit and then snarled, “Having fun, Longbottom. Why don’t you laugh? Why are you sitting so quiet? Enjoying the pathetic sight? Look The Slytherin Queen is reduced to shit!” Tell me, Longbottom, why don’t you leave me, and run back to your friends and bring them here...It would be poetic justice, now won’t it!”

She felt him rub his cheeks against her bare shoulders. The damp touch surprised her. Hiding her face in her hand, she wailed in shame, “Don’t! Don’t, please. Men don’t cry and Heros always pity the losers. I can’t...please Longbottom. I can’t accept your pity.”

It happened before she could make an audible sound. One minute she was sitting in between his long legs flush against his chest, the very next moment, he had managed to turn her about, forcing her to face him. 

He pulled hard at her arms, making her slide over his lap, till their nose touched. 

Before she fainted she had managed to get a last good look at his face. Gone were the soft lines and kind eyes. The man holding her in his strong arms had sharp jaws, a broad forehead, and burning amber eyes that glinted with quiet fury.

The moment she regained herself, Pansy thought she had fallen over a thick patch of Devil’s Snare. ‘ _But those wretched plants don’t apologize.’_ The words, “I am sorry, Pansy,” rolled over her ears and woke her up. A deep rumbling voice kept on chanting those four letters that seemed to come from somewhere beyond this firm wall pressed against her cheek.

“No pity,” she murmured against the warm heaving wall. Her universe tilted slowly. The wall, this row of shirt buttons blurred and a face hovered close to her glassy eyes. She blinked a couple of times and rested her cheek against a firm but soft palm. At length, she pried open her eyes and watched a smile creep over Longbottom’s face. She was about to smile back when her eyes caught a tear roll down his soft eyes. Unable to bring up her hand, she leaned forward and licked it away, whispering against his cheek, “Men don’t cry over spoils of war.”

Hooking his finger under her chin, he turned her face and kissed her gently. 

It didn’t last long. Barely a couple of seconds. But Pansy felt the weight of the world getting lifted off her shoulders, the shame and misery getting torn into million shreds. Her universe swayed on its own and a tiny ray kindled the dying will to live somewhere within her heart. She felt him nuzzle against her nose and asked, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Explain.”

“What?” he whispered back, kissing a single spot on her cheek again and again.

She sighed and tried to come up with a logical question, “Why are you crying, Longbottom?”

He stilled and turned to peer into her eyes, then holding her gaze, replied with all the honesty he could muster, “I feel your pain as my own. When they taunt you, my heart burns. When they shove at you, I want to beat the daylight out of them. They don’t know. They weren’t in the dungeons that day. They weren’t the ones to refuse to participate in the torture of some sniveling Gryffindor student. They won’t know how a Curciatus Curse feels like and when coupled with the Imperious curse…’ he stopped then kissed her some more.

Pansy couldn’t bring herself to cry anymore. She had spent days crying over that traumatic incident. She hugged him instead and concentrated on the sound of his beating heart. Seconds turned to minutes until Longbottom’s soft cries ceased to nothing. Hugging his hard, she whispered over his heart, “You didn't do it, Longbottom.”

Shaking his head, he replied hastily, “Don’t Pansy, don’t you dare blame yourself.”

She gulped and replied firmly, “No, Neville, both of us were forced to do it against our will. We were made to violate each other, take advantage of each other’s innocence... They...the Carrows were the worst kinds of sadists. Trust me, Neville, with you around, I am no longer alone. You make me feel safe. I know you watch me like a hawk. You can tell from subtle signs and then come and find me, sprawled in some corridor or behind a statue or a tapestry. You pick me up and hide me somewhere. You hold on to me, till they go away. With you around, I no longer feel alone.”

“Trust me, Parkinson, neither do I,” resting his head over her crown he whispered back. She was always the one to bring up that conversation. She was braver, bolder, and stronger than he could ever become. And he loved her for that.


	2. Chapter 2

“I am going to kill the Carrows.”

“Well, good luck with that.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Ya, Like hell I do.”

“I am going to kill the Carrows or die trying.”

“And why should I care?”

“I...I just thought...Well, never mind...Fiffy can take you back to your Slytherin Room. Don’t try something...or else they will throw you in Azkaban. I will find a way to come and get you out of the castle...or someone else will set you free.” 

“You all are going to die.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Are you even listening for once!”

“Yah! We are going to die...so the best way to keep you alive is to send you back to your cozy dungeon, Fiffy, please escort Miss Parkinson back to her dorm and make sure her absence is not noted. Return her wand once she is safe.”

When the small house elf’s hands closed around her wrist, Pansy jerked it off and glowered at Neville.

“You have lost it, Longbottom. You...the whole lot of you...They are powerful and they give a shit about what happens. He will not kill you right away...he will torture you...”

The eerie noise of approaching doom shook the castle making the two of them flinch and look around. The house elf’s eyes flapped and eye darted about, but it stood on its ground waiting.

Brushing away his hair, Longbottom thrust his sweating palms inside his robes, “I am going to kill them anyway,” bringing a small knife from the pocket, he stared at it in a daze, then muttered, “if magic fails then I will do it with this.”

Pansy lunged forward and tried to pry it out of his hands. The small house-elf had already plucked her wand out of her holster while apparating her inside this old dungeon classroom. It made a sound at the back of its throat while Neville twisted his long frame and pushed her against the floor. 

If it was Draco, she knew he would sneer at her triumphantly, if it was Blaise he would try his luck at seducing her, if it was Theo he would tickle her. Neville’s face was contorted, his hair tousled, his chubby cheeks flushed red and he was openly crying. She tried to push him off, but the boy simply dropped his head and the nook of her shoulder and shuddered, never letting go of the long knife that lay naked in anticipation next to her head.

Pansy winced, rolled her eyes, then tried pushing him off. But he was too heavy. As her fingers ran over his forearm, she swallowed hard. She knew how they felt, looked, bare under next to the roaring fire.

The Slytherin Room was two levels up. She didn’t know how the house-elf had managed to whisk her away from the thong of Slytherins being guided back to the dungeons by Mr. Filch under the orders of McGonagall. The Carrows Torture Chamber was just down the hallway. 

_ Against her wish, she could still feel everything. The twins had asked for her specifically. _

_ “Ah, Miss Parkinson,” Amycus had crooned too close to her ear. Pansy shuddered and fought against the bile rising up her throat. There on top of the table, Neville Longbottom lay naked on his back, his mouth absent.  _

_ Alecto was standing next to him, digging her wand over his bleeding chest, ignoring the fresh blood oozing out from around her wand. While Pansy felt Amycus’s hands traveling up and down her back, the sister called her over, “You know it is unacceptable to refuse Dark Lord’s orders and it is unpardonable to ignore his requests. Now, girl, your daddy darling seems to have forgotten with that last bit...he keeps on saying his vault is empty and there is nothing left to give up for Our Cause.” _

_ Amycus’s fingers in the meantime had found their way up her skirt, making her shudder in disgust. She couldn’t remember much of it, neither did she wish it, though her body remembered. Even the strongest of glamour spells, couldn’t hide the palm prints. Large uncaring filthy fingers prodded her open, tieing her flailing legs against the table, she was forced to look down at Neville’s wide frightening pitiful eyes. She must have screamed herself hoarse at some point. Amycus had sharp teeth, once that left behind brutal marks. Staring at the Gryffindor classmate she had wondered cluelessly for whom he was crying. Was he crying for her? Or was he crying for being subsequently tortured by the other witch? _

_ Amycus’s fingers must have been knuckled deep when Alecto pulled her hair hard and forced her to look at Neville, “Aw! Young Love, it must be out of love that you refuse to torture Longbottom. Now, now, don’t be such a spoiled sport...my darling, For a young man he has a glorious dick!” _

_ The next thing she knew...she was having the most humiliating orgasm around three fingers of her professor with a man cumming himself all over her back. _

_ For the first time, since her arrival, Neville had spoken out, the oscausi spell wearing off at last, “Leave her alone. Stop it...let her go.” _

“I want to Kill them, Parkinson. Please, I want to kill them for us. For you. For me. For our peace of mind...I want to kill them,” his breath warmed her neck, while her collar grew damp soaking in his innocent tears.

It struck her, Longbottom wanted her permission, he had sought her out to reason with him. When was the last time someone valued her opinion? Cared for her needs? Considered her preferences? Came to her rescue? Her hands had started to come and rest over his back when Neville sat up and pointed the knife at her throat.

“But why should I care about you, Parkinson?”

“Longbottom…,” she flicked her eyes at the glistening edge then stared back at his amber eyes in panic.

“Fifteen minutes ago, you were suggesting about handing over Harry to…,” he swallowed but continued to glare down at her.

She tried to get up, but he warned, “Don’t move, I don’t wish to end up hurting you by accident. Just answer the bloody question.”

Laying against the dusty floor, she watched the young man breathing so close to her face.

They heard a loud boom above and the walls of the old classroom shook. Out of his natural instinct, Neville pulled her closer making sure she was truly safe. He had his face turned towards Fiffy about to bark at the visibly trembling house-elf, when Pansy cupped his cheek, ignoring the knife now resting against her chest.

“I don’t care about Potter.”

“Shut it, Parkinson, he is the Chosen One.”

“Still, I don’t give a damn,” she held on to his face and felt his fingers tremble against her heart.

This time, he studied her, and at length whispered, “Promise me, you won’t muck it up. Whatever happens, you should learn to live beyond this day, promise me, Parkinson!”

“Longbottom, you asked Fiffy to get me, because you knew you couldn’t take down the Carrows alone.”

Shaking his head, Neville got up and moved away. The Slytherin witch grabbed at his arm and forced him to look at her. 

“Let’s make a deal, Longbottom. You take down, the brother and I go for the witch. They would never see it coming…”

“No...NO! You are going back to the dungeon.”

“I am not!” grabbing at his collar she pulled him down and hissed.

“I can’t risk it, you mustn’t be seen...you got to think about your parents…!”

“No, I don’t. What I need to do is start thinking about living my life on my own terms.”

“Pansy,” he pleaded, “Don’t, they are your parents…”

“Yeah, like fuck! Where the hell were they when…” she shut her eyes and shook her head. Standing on the tip of her toes she kissed him with everything emotion she could bring up. 

Neville’s eyes grew comically large, as he let her have her way. Chuckled at him, she muttered, “As I said, I really don’t care much about Potter. You are good enough. Now, give me my wand, we got scumbags to hunt.”


End file.
